Dreaming of a Fairytale
by Moonlight Silhouette
Summary: In a kingdom rife with revolution, Susannah Simon fights for the chance to live her childhood dream. Then a handsome distraction - a mysterious exile whose smile haunts her current dreams - makes himself known and soon all her fantasies could become real.
1. Prologue: The Beginning

**A.N - Hey guys. I'm sorry I haven't been around in a while. School, then a broken laptop that was taken away for repairs. That kinda thing. I'm posting this as a kind of "please forgive me" story. Cos, the thing is, it's gonna get worse. It's Mock time. And my school so brilliantly scheduled the language oral mocks three days in a row. Guess who took all three languages... So, yeah. One of the many things I'm stressing about.**

**Anyway, tell me what you think? I'm aware it's very Anastasia-esque. But it's just a prologue. It will change. And the title is subject to change.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All Meg Cabot who, unfortunately, has the sole rights to Jesse De Silva. Accept for maybe Suze.**

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_**Fairytales**_

**ONCE UPON A TIME** there lived a young, handsome prince. His hair was wildly curly, yet tame, stopping just below the nape of his neck and his wide, brown eyes often held a glint of something – happiness, excitement. It was rare to see this Prince without a smile spread across his deeply tanned face, just as it was rare to see this Prince without one of his younger sisters demanding attention from him.

Prince Hector could always be found playing with Princess Marta in the gardens, or giving young Princess Rosita a ride on his back as the rest of his sisters cheered happily, applauding and demanding it be their turn next.

Entertaining his sisters was not the only thing this young Prince was good at either; by the age of sixteen, Hector was fluent in three languages, his skills with a sword were unrivalled and no one objected to the thought of him becoming King after his father.

The De Silva's were the pride of the kingdom – they ruled with dignity and diplomacy. The thought of anything happening to their beloved monarchy filled the kingdom with fear and fury so potent that, should the occasion ever arise, war seemed inevitable.

And something did happen.

Two months after the Prince's seventeenth birthday, terror reigned in the extravagant palace. The beloved King and Queen had been celebrating their anniversary – a ball was being held in their honour. The palace's great hall was overflowing with expensive gowns and jewellery, smartly dressed gentleman as escorts and gushing comments about how happy the King and Queen looked, after all this time together.

Prince Hector and his sisters dominated the floor, candles flickering over each of their smiling faces as Hector took it in turns escorting the Princesses on a waltz around the room. Anybody looking at the scene smiled, touched.

The celebration had only been going for an hour when the door was thrown open; Two single figures stood darkly silhouetted against the deceptively calm, inky-black night. One of the figures raised a hand, the silver glint of a gun visible to all present, and fired a single shot.

Prince Hector reacted instantly, dropping to the floor and tugging on Princess Marta's hand to enable her to react just as quickly. Between them, they cradled their younger sisters in their protective embrace, shushing them and calming them down as the cold marble floor impacted harshly against them.

The King, however, did not react so quickly.

Whizzing past Prince Hector's head, the bullet quickly found its mark, embedding itself in the King's chest.

The guests screamed in horror as they watched their King fall. The scream of the Queen was non-existent; instead, her mouth fell open in silent horror as her eyes watered and her hand rose to cover her open mouth. His children were silent, their traumatised faces rising slightly above the hunched backs of other guests who'd thought to duck for cover. The sight of their father on the floor, warm scarlet blood spreading from underneath him in a sickening pool of blood, silenced the young monarchs.

Until Princess Rosita found her voice. Tears streamed from her brown eyes as she witnessed the scene, screaming in horror, "Daddy!"

The men at the door took a step inside, interrupting the grotesque scene they had created. Both men's faces were hidden in shadows.

"I suggest," One man spoke, his chilling voice echoing around the still, cavernous room, "that unless you wish the same to happen to you," he gestured cruelly with his gun to the still body of the King. "You all leave. The kingdom." He paused as his face twisted into a vicious smirk. "If I ever see another De Silva in this kingdom again, it will be the last thing they see."

He fired a shot in the air, an expensive chandelier shattering and plummeting towards the ground in a whirl of golden catastrophe.

"Now."

The man turned and looked at his son, nodding once as the other boy pulled a dagger from his pocket.

His target wasn't hard to find in the panicked mess of guests. Prince Hector had left his sisters to the care of the eldest Princess as he himself went to collect his mother from her fallen husband's side. The Prince swallowed visibly as his eyes fell on his father's pale face before he turned his back on the sight, collecting his mother under his arm and ushering her out the door – out of their home.

As they passed, he slid the dagger out stealthily, catching the young Prince in his side and revelling in the hiss of air he sucked in at the pain.

Prince Hector whirled around to stare at his attacker as his hand came to clutch at his wound. All he could of the man was his eyes. They were the lightest, sparkling blue possible for a shade of eye colour and Prince Hector knew that he would never forget those eyes for as long as he lived.

The De Silva's left their home without a second glance backwards, unwilling to see the destructive mess it had become, and stole off into the night, away from their father's hideous assassin and the boy with the blue eyes.

* * *

Regardless of what had been said, the De Silva's did not flee the country. The townspeople of the kingdom, instead, offered to help them. They received a house, furniture and clothes, all without cost.

But they couldn't live forever on the townspeople's kindness. The King's murderer had taken the throne as his own, together with his wife and two sons, and had raised taxes and demanded a higher workload, if only to be more profitable to him.

It was down to Hector, as the only one able to work, to support his family. He found a job nearby with a carpenter who was willing to give Hector a chance, in spite of the common misconception that, as he had been raised a Prince, he had not done any amount of work in his life.

This Prince – who was born and raised a gentleman and hadn't a bone of hatred in him, until that fateful night – and his family didn't get the happy ending they deserved. In this case, it was evil that had triumphed, and gained all the power, leaving the good unable to get their** HAPPILY EVER AFTER.**


	2. One

**A.N - I am so sorry about the loooong wait. I'm out of school for two weeks now, and I'm going to try and catch up with myself. Like today, I have _hours_ to wait before we go see Twilight. I'll try to update whatever I can.**

**Hope you like this anyway - if I still have any readers, of course. (:**

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One

_Two years later._

This place didn't look at all like anyone had told her. The supposed bloody battlefield that made up the streets was in actuality a handsome market place, people bustling together to find the best goods. Demolished buildings that blemished the view were actually quaint little houses, happily clumped together. And finally, the palace that was home to assassination and murder, the events responsible for sending the monarchy into exile, stood proudly in the distance.

It was more like something out of a fairytale, the kind her father used to read to her, before he'd died.

Susannah looked around her in awe, clutching her bag to her chest as her green eyes took in the wondrous vision of a city outside of Carmel, where she'd grown up with her stepfather and stepbrothers. Clenched in her fist was a ruggedly torn, yet in pristine condition, newspaper clipping – a job advertisement, for lack of a better word.

The thought of joining an elite dance class had been too big to ignore. The promise of being conducted by _the_ Paul Slater had convinced her to follow her dream, and she'd ran away from home to achieve it.

But now she was lost, a confused expression settled on her face as her eyes darted from the address on the paper to the buildings around her, not being able to click the two together.

Slowly, she began walking forward, eyes fixed steadily on the ripped newspaper and not on where she was going. Which is why she didn't see him until it was too late.

Susannah walked forward, her small body colliding with that of someone considerably more masculine, and she faltered, before rough calloused hands rose to steady her, his fingers curling around her arm.

"Hey," he said, his voice deep and entrancing. "You okay there? You seem a little lost."

A blush tinged the curve of her cheek as she bit her bottom lip and looked up from under her eyelashes at her saviour in embarrassment.

"Yeah, um, I'm fine." Her eyes clashed with his deep pools of darkness and she saw the amused glint in them, along with a black smudge marring the perfection of his face. "I just don't know where I'm going."

He chuckled, the sound sending electricity through her spine as she felt the vibrations of his chest rumble through her; he still hadn't let go of her arms. "Well, I can help you there." He informed her with an easy smile. "I've lived here forever. Where are you going?"

Susannah glanced around her, catching sight of his fingers resting softly against her upper arm, before she found the glint of grey she was looking for and silently held the paper up to him.

The stranger looked down at his hands and stumbled back two steps, accepting the offering without a word as he took in the information.

"Ah," he nodded. "You're a dancer."

Susannah smiled widely and laughed. "I want to be," she admitted. "I don't know if I'm any good."

He looked up sharply and stared at her, noting her beautiful face and lithe form. He felt a stab of something shoot through him as he thought of whom she had chosen to dance for.

"You'll be fine," he told her, handing her back the clipping and curling her fingers around it. His hand rested on top of hers as he looked again into her captivating green eyes. "Especially for Paul Slater. He'll take one look at you and decide you'll be perfect for his company."

She didn't hear the underlying sarcasm in his words, and instead smiled that wide, breathtaking smile once again. "Really?" She gushed. "You really think so?"

His smile was strained. "I know so."

Susannah laughed again, a sound that abruptly halted as she saw her hands in his and noticed, for the first time, how _right_ they felt in hers. He followed her eyes and saw what she was looking at, unlinking their hands and running one through his hair.

"Um, can I have your name?" He mumbled, smiling with a hint of embarrassment. "So I can say I knew you, before Slater makes into a star."

"It's Susannah," she smiled again, glancing up at him shyly. "Susannah Simon."

"That's a pretty name."

A beat of silence passed through them as they stared at each other, surprise in each of their eyes.

"_JESSE!"_

The sharp call from inside a nearby workshop sliced through their moment, and the pair jumped apart in undeserved guilt.

"Well," his deep chuckled reverberated through the air once more. "That's my name. I'm Jesse."

"Just Jesse?" She teased him.

He smiled at her. "Yeah, just Jesse."

Susannah glanced around her, looking everywhere but at him and feeling a sting of something almost like rejection run through her. "Okay," she muttered. "So, where am I going?"

Jesse raised his left eyebrow as he regarded her, sensing something different in her thoughts. "Just follow this street down." He came up behind her and pointed, his arm brushing the skin of her cheek. The unfamiliar jolt of electricity shot once more to her heart. "You'll get to the town square. You won't be able to miss it."

She turned and found her lips inches away from his, and his eyes staring darkly down at her. "Thank you," she whispered, eyes fixed on his.

He leaned down, his lips colliding with her cheek so softly, and so quickly, that she might have imagined it.

"_**JESSE!"**_

Jesse grinned at the shout from his employer. "You're welcome."

He disappeared then, leaving Susannah with the fleeting feel of his lips on her skin and a direction that she should follow if she wanted to follow her dream.

Only, every few steps she took, she couldn't keep herself from glancing behind her, hoping for another glimpse of the stranger she had come to know as just Jesse.

More than once, Susannah could have sworn she'd seen his dark eyes staring back at her from a figure leaning against the doorway or bent over a table working. She saw him everywhere, but it was only when she finally reached the town square, looked up at the elegant building in front of her – a place that could only ever have been intended for one purpose – and not feel the thrill she'd expected to feel, that she realised what her encounter with the stranger might have done to her.

It seemed that her dreams, which once centred on dancing for royalty on a brilliant stage, were now revolved around _him_.

Jesse.


	3. Two

**A.N - Just in case you don't read my other story, I'm sorry for not being around. Crazy hectic stuff like. Hope you people are still with me.**

**Brace yourselves for some serious fluff. Kinda my way of saying 'I'm sorry. Don't kill me.' :)**

**For Emily, Superwoman and bestest buddy.**

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Two

Jesse had been right. Paul Slater had practically taken one look at her, and hired her on the spot.

"Don't I need to audition?" She'd asked. "To dance?"

Paul's azure eyes raked up and down her form, a leer, as his lips pulled back in a smirk. "Look, Susannah," he began. "I know what people want. I didn't get here –" he gestured at the grand hall they were stood in, golden decorations set against red velvet. It was something befitting royalty, this hall. "– By not knowing what to give the public. And I can tell you now that what they want is you."

"Oh." Her put out expression was visible only for a moment. She'd rehearsed and practiced until her feet were bruised for this chance and now she was being given it without having to show anybody what she could do. "Well, thank you."

"Susannah?" His deep voice was nowhere near as captivating as Jesse's had been.

"Yes, Mr. Slater?"

"We begin on Monday," he told her with a curt nod. "Be ready."

Susannah nodded again, smiling brilliantly at him as she left the hall.

* * *

The sky was beginning to darken by the time Susannah found her way back through the quaint, cobblestone streets and the sun dipped below the horizon in a fiery spectrum of scarlet, amber and gold. The sight was captivating. Susannah stood still, looking up at the vision.

"Never seen a sunset before?" The deep timbre was familiar, and she felt instantly secure in his presence. Not at all scared. "Or are you just lost again?"

"It's not that," her voice was practically a whisper. "It's just … those colours. They're breathtaking." She swore she could see a wash of purple amid the orange glow.

"You're not from around here are you?" She turned to see the grin spread across Jesse's face. "I mean, I guessed this morning, but this just confirmed it."

Susannah was almost certain that her cheeks were stained a vivid pink. "No," she told him. "I came specifically to audition for Mr. Slater."

"Ah, yes." Jesse's smile vanished; his face devoid of emotion. Still, he held out a rough, worked hand for her to grasp in her smaller, softer one. Escorting her as only a gentleman could. Jesse's manners were entirely too proper for an apprentice. "How did that go?"

Her smile was instant. "It went well," she informed him, tearing her eyes from the sight of her hand wrapped in his bigger, more tanned one. "You were right – I didn't have to audition. I start on Monday."

His eyes fell shut. He was afraid that he would be right; that Paul would want her in her company merely for her beauty and not her abilities. This meant that Paul liked her. He _wanted_ her.

"You didn't get to dance?" His tone was neutral.

They had entered a clearing now. Streets giving way to a dewy field, the night sky glittered with stars above their heads and reflected off the surface of a lake some metres away.

Susannah shook her head. "No." She turned to look up at Jesse's face. "I was a little disappointed."

"I can imagine." Jesse hid an amused smile. It seemed Paul had already managed to offend this girl. It didn't bode well. "Dance now."

She froze. "Huh?"

Jesse couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped him. "Dance now," he repeated. "If you like."

He dropped her hand and took a few steps back, giving her room.

"There's no music?" She was clutching at straws – anything to get out of this.

Jesse tutted teasingly, "You're a dancer, Susannah. You don't need music." She hesitated still. "If you'd rather, I can sing. Or hum. But I don't think that either of us deserves to go through _that_ torment."

Susannah giggled and took a step towards him. "I'll dance if you sing." He cocked a scarred eyebrow and she relented. "Hum. Deal?"

A nod was her reply. Taking her starting position, she nodded and Jesse began, humming softly, deeply and horribly out of tune. Susannah laughed and began to dance. She shaped her elegant movements to fit even to Jesse's music, throwing glances over at him to find him smiling widely as well, his eyes following her every moment.

Then, knowing he'd catch her, she ran to him and jumped gracefully into his arms. He responded as if he'd been expecting it, catching her about the waist and placing her gently on the floor, twirling her in his arms and dancing with her, never missing a beat in his impromptu performance.

When he finally did stop his humming, his large hands were cradling her waist and his face was looking down at hers, inches apart from one another.

"You deserve to be a part of that company, Susannah." Jesse whispered. "Paul is a fool for passing up the opportunity to see you dance."

And, even though he couldn't prevent it, Jesse knew that the thought of Paul seeing her dance like that would send a twinge of something through his stomach every time. That man didn't deserve it.

Susannah smiled at him, angling her head minutely to fit his more snugly, should he deign to kiss her.

Jesse noticed, and fought with the decision. If he kissed her, it wouldn't be right. He had secrets; they'd only just met. There were many complications. But, if he didn't … What if she felt rejected, lost? What if, eventually, she turned to somebody else?

All irrational thoughts, he was aware. She was here to dance, not to find a husband. But it didn't make the thoughts any easier to consider.

And now she was looking up at him, her brown eyelashes framing wide emerald eyes, and smiling, completely trusting of him, even in the time of their short acquaintance.

"_Díos_," he swore as he dipped his head to capture her lips. There had been no argument. Not really.

This kiss was so much more than the fleeting goodbye he'd left her with earlier that day. The feel of Jesse's arms around her and his hands running over her arms so as to keep her warm was so much more affirmative then the brief butterfly kiss that she still wasn't sure had actually happened.

"Susannah," he whispered as he broke away stopping to smile at her as he corrected himself. "_Querida_. Have you got a place to stay tonight?"

Instantly Susannah jumped away from him and her hand found his face, slapping him instinctively and hard enough to leave a mark.

"No," he placed a hand over the burning flesh, grinning at her reaction. "No, _querida_. No. I didn't mean … that." He realised how it must have sounded, kicked himself for his complete idiocy, but he couldn't find it in himself to be mad at her for slapping him. It was, in a way, comforting. "I just meant that my mama and sisters run this tavern, of sorts. They could offer you a place to stay."

"Oh." Shame and embarrassment rushed upon her. "I guess I jumped to conclusions." She grinned again, almost sheepishly. "Besides, I think I would have stopped you, if you had meant it. Screamed or kicked. Something."

Jesse smiled again, "I can imagine." He repeated. "Come on, let me show you."

"Hey, Jesse?" He turned expectantly, dark eyes glimmering with amusement. "I'm sorry, for slapping you. Is there anything I can do?"

He paused, thinking. "I think a kiss should do it." He laid a finger against the red skin. "Right here."


	4. Three

**A.N - Hey guys, I realise it's been a while. I'm getting into a routine. I'm pretty sure the next story I update will be my Twilight one and then back to Next Please and it can be like that. I'm determined to wrap these up as soon as possible so that I can start on a few more for other boards.**

**I'm really wanting to write either a Mortal Instruments or a Wicked Lovely story at the moment. :)**

**Hope your still with me on this. I love it. Some Jesse/Paul tension is always good, in my opinion. I apologise for the length though.**

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Three

If there was one thing to be said about Paul Slater it's that he makes his dancers work. Hard.

It seemed to Susannah that Paul Slater took sadistic pleasure in watching his girls, as he referred to them, stretching and pushing themselves to their limits. Striving for attention, to have him notice them above all others. Having been on the receiving end of it a few times in the past week she'd been a part of his company, Susannah could vouch for the fact that it was flattering but she simply could not see the appeal of this man. He was handsome, sure enough, but not even close to competing with the beautiful sculpted features of Jesse.

Each night as she returned to the tavern owned by Jesse's mother, exhausted and aching, he was there, waiting for her. She blushed every time he flashed his wide smile at her or when his strong, tanned arms encompassed her in his embrace. His kisses, also, set her cheeks flaming.

"_SIMON!_"

The sharp bark of her name had her stumbling into reality, catching herself just before she threw herself off balance. She glanced around at the wide-eyed gazes of the other girls before turning her own emerald eyes to look up at the piercing blue of their choreographer's.

His eyes stared at her for an extended pause, the moment stretching and dragging as Susannah was frozen into a position that caused her legs to burn as they struggled to support her much longer.

"Alright, relax," Paul smirked to himself as the girls came out of their finishing poses and stretched. "Susannah, a word, please."

He excused himself to his office, Susannah following dutifully behind him with her head hung low as she thought of what was to come. He'd been speaking to her and she'd been too wrapped up in her thoughts of Jesse to respond, to listen.

The silence she was being forced to endure struck her harshly and was almost worse than the knowledge that she was going to be asked to leave his company. Almost.

"Susannah," Paul's speech was sudden, but she contained her gasp. Instead, she stood mutely, arms folded and her feet settled into the third position. Her long chestnut waves fell forward to hide her face. Looking at the sight she made, Paul relented his anger. "Susannah," he repeated more softly, ducking his head and brushing her hair behind her ears, cupping her cheek as he finished. "I need you to focus, okay dear? You're my lead dancer, _ma étoile_. I can't have you drifting off during rehearsals – you might hurt yourself, darling. Then your career will be over."

This time, Susannah did gasp. "I'm sorry, Mr. Slater. It won't happen again, I promise you. Only, I …" She trailed off as his words hit her. "You really mean it? I'm your … your … _étoile_? Your star?"

Paul chuckled, low and deep, his fingers trailing along her jaw as he dropped his hand away, reluctantly. "_Oui_."

Susannah couldn't help but compare the two: Paul's French against Jesse's Spanish. She found herself preferring the soft, natural lilt that was present in Jesse's speech. Between being an _étoile_ or a _querida_, Susannah favoured the latter, even if she had yet to determine what it meant.

"There you've gone again," Paul muttered. "Where do you keep disappearing to, inside your mind?"

Her blush was instantaneous and she flustered for words, noticing, for the first time the lack of other people in the rehearsal space. "Oh, I must go," She informed him. "It's past dark already and I've got a way to walk."

Rushing, she gathered her things and threw on clothes on top of her dancing leotard.

"How far a way?" Paul insisted. "I can drive you."

She knew of the animosity Jesse felt towards Paul and was shaking her head before he'd finished his sentence. "No," she spoke determinedly. "No, the walk will do me good. Thank you anyway though, for everything."

Susannah was just walking away, leaving Paul behind her gritting his teeth with barely restrained temper when she heard it. It was one of the most beautiful sounds in her world: Jesse's voice.

"Susannah, _querida_, are you in here?"

She must have been here longer than she thought, for Jesse to come and find her. His voice was laced with worry and she mentally berated herself for causing him to feel that.

"I'm here, Jesse!" She called back, racing towards the door quickly. He never came into the town centre if it could be helped. In the one week they'd spent in close quarters they'd learned a lot about each other. One of the first things Susannah had figured out was that no one in Jesse's family – not him, his mother or his sisters – liked to leave the comfort of their own area of land on the outskirts of town.

"Jesse?" Paul's interested tone floated from behind her as she finally found Jesse, whose shoulders were tense and stiff at the sound of his voice. When she looked behind her, Paul's cerulean eyes were sparkling with delight. "How long has it been? About two years?"

Jesse grit his teeth, extending an arm to capture Susannah's hand and tug her in closer to him before he kissed her temple territorially, not taking his eyes off Paul. Susannah felt her eyes shut in bliss and the omnipresent blush grace her cheeks. "About that, yes."

Jesse's arm snaked around her waist and the heat of his skin burned her through her thin layer of clothing. Shocks ran along her nerves, setting her body alight with fire. Involuntarily, she shivered and Paul's smirk disappeared, replaced with a sharp glare, as Jesse fought to keep the smug smile off his face.

"So, Susannah, I appreciated you staying behind to talk to me," Paul directed his attention to the most beautiful of his dancers once again, "and I wish to discuss with you about taking on the lead role in the upcoming show."

Susannah's excitement was palpable as she squealed and wrapped her arms around Jesse's neck in happiness. "Jesse!" She exclaimed. "Did you hear that? Me? The lead role!" Her laughter sounded like music in both men's ears.

"I heard," he smiled at her, kissing her softly on the lips. "Congratulations." He crushed her to him again, his arms banding around her waist as he raised an eyebrow at Paul over her shoulder. Challenging him.

"Join me for dinner – say, tomorrow? – so we can discuss it in further detail."

Jesse froze as Susannah pulled out of his arms and smiled one of her brilliant smiles at Paul, sending a jolt of something Jesse couldn't put a name to through his stomach, as Paul regarded him with a triumphant expression.

"Yes," Susannah smiled, unaware of the competition going on between the two men. "Sure. After rehearsal?"

"Sounds perfect," he smiled at her before casting a cool glance over at Jesse. "Don't worry, friend. I'll make sure she gets home safely afterwards. I know that Susannah can't walk home, who knows how late we'll finish?"


	5. Four

**A.N - First off, I've just finished reading _Aurelia_ by Anne Osterlund and because of that, I've probably emulated a bit of the way the characters spoke there, here. So it's a tad more formal and old fashioned then normal. You'll see what I mean.**

**Secondly, thank you all so much for the reviews. I'm not sure if I get around to replying to all of them - I'm trying, really - so, if I haven't, I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate every single one of them.**

**Finally, hope you like. :)  
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**Four**

His highness, Prince Hector de Silva – for he'd been forced out of his title, not the hearts of his subjects, and if they deemed him Prince, then Prince he shall remain, for them – paced the floor of the tavern ran by his mother like a man demented.

Susannah hadn't even been gone long; a mere hour. Her dance rehearsals last two, normally. Only this time, he knew that Paul Slater was whisking her away to wine and dine her afterward. Therein lay the reason for his torment.

What would Slater tell her? Make her believe?

What if Slater took her to dinner at the palace, where his family lived and where Jesse had been banished? That would be the lowest blow Paul could possibly deal. Letting Susannah dine in _Jesse's_ dining hall. Taking her up to _Jesse's_ bedchamber now set aside for Paul …

He shook of his thoughts with a frustrated noise bubbling from his mouth and resumed his pacing.

"Jesse," Marta called to her elder brother. "Stop worrying."

"How?" He barked, uncharacteristically. "How can I possibly remain calm when the son of the man who killed father is _alone_ with Susannah?"

His sister paused, deliberating and Jesse knew that what she had to say would not be easy for him to hear.

"Because Paul doesn't mean her any harm." She spoke quietly. "I think he may just be as fiercely protective over her as you, for, perhaps, the same reason."

With his face whitening in horrid realisation, Jesse collapsed onto the nearby futon, his head falling into his hands as the point of his elbows balanced on his knees.

"And what," he rasped in a hoarse whisper, "reason would that be?"

Silence reigned in the room, broken only by the soft ticking of the antique clock atop the mantle.

"I think you know," his sister told him, rising with the grace of the princess she used to be and kissing his cheek affectionately before leaving the room.

Jesse groaned, his head falling against the wall in frustration. Yes, he knew. Of course he knew. He felt it in his chest whenever he looked at Susannah; whenever he saw her smile or heard her voice. And he'd seen it still in Paul's eyes as he looked at Susannah, only, with a more malicious undertone. Paul's intentions towards Susannah were anything but honourable.

The thought of Susannah being left innocent to the likes of Slater filled Jesse's heart with dread.

He started as the clock in the room struck the hour, the short, sharp clangs of the bell signalling the hour pierced through his ever-darkening thoughts like a gunshot.

Jesse let out a whoosh of breath.

Just a few more hours, he told himself. Then Susannah would be returned to him.

By Paul Slater.

His hands clenched and his knuckles whitened as the fear and terror grew inside him once again.

* * *

The food had been delicious, the restaurant breathtaking with its golden, ornate decorations and rich colour. The company, on the other hand, had filled her with unease, though she tried not to show it through the fake smiled plastered on her face.

It wouldn't be of interest to antagonise the man who could help her become a star, help her become the famous dancer she'd dreamed of being since her father had taken her to her first dance lesson at the age of four.

"About the show," Paul began as the dessert dishes were taken away – finally getting round to business at the end of the meal, determined to drag out the time she was forced to endure with him. "You realise, as the lead, you would be required to attend more rehearsals then you are doing?"

"Yes, of course." Susannah nodded, smiling. "I'd be happy too."

Paul took one glance at her, and didn't doubt it. The determined look in her eyes enlightened him to her commitment. "Some of them may require just you, on your own."

She swallowed, and blinked once before she nodded again. "I could do that."

Paul smirked as the opportunity he'd been waiting for presented itself. "Perhaps, then," he began, "it would be wise for you to live closer to the dance hall? So many trips back and forth to the De Silva place would hardly be necessary then."

Susannah tilted her head, gauging his reasons behind the suggestion, and what she saw in his eyes frightened her.

"No, thank you," she said quietly. "I like the walk. And I like the De Silvas, they're good people."

She watched as the hand curled around his wine glass tightened and saw a tick in his jaw, betraying the fact that he'd grit his teeth. "Surely," he spoke slowly, desperately trying to control the anger in his voice, "you'd be exhausted. I can't have my lead dancer fainting during rehearsals. Or, in fact, the show."

"I won't," Susannah smiled. "I promise."

"It may be dark," he continued, grasping at whatever he could. "You can't travel alone in the dark."

Annoyed, Susannah narrowed her eyes at her choreographer. "Never doubt what I can do, Mr. Slater." Her voice was cold. "I'm perfectly capable of handling myself. If, however, the thought of me walking alone causes you so much _grief_," she spat the word out, knowing that that wasn't what concerned him, "I'll ask Jesse to walk me home."

It hadn't been her best idea, to bring Jesse into the conversation. Paul was already livid and her casual reference to Jesse only added fuel to the flames.

"Your precious Jesse," Paul hissed in low tones, "shouldn't even be in the kingdom. He and his family were banished." He didn't even pause to let the news he'd told her sink in. "All I have to do is say one simple little word – just a little slip of the tongue – to my father, and all the De Silvas will be killed."

Susannah glared at him, her eyes still layered with disbelief and shock. "You're lying." The disgust was evident in her tone. "It's a trick to get me to do as you say."

"I'm not," Paul insisted, leaning back in his chair as a cold grin overtook his features and he revelled in his victory. "But are you willing to chance it?"

* * *

Susannah walked along the street alone. Paul had brought her back, as he'd promised, but the entire ride had been in silence, only breaking when Susannah asked to stop here, please, and climbed out.

"This isn't where the De Silvas live," Paul countered, looking around at the haunting figures of tall, dark trees. "Let me take you to their door."

"Given your threat," she spoke with anger. "I'm hardly going to lead you right to them. This is as far as you go."

Paul bowed his head at her in mock obedience. "Then here is where I will pick you up tomorrow morning. Don't forget."

Susannah said nothing, turning her back on the evil, spiteful man and walked away, She was lost in the darkness within moments, ambling along until finally she saw the door she'd been walking towards.

And standing in the doorway, casting a lengthy shadow along the pathway from the light that spilt out behind him stood Jesse, anxiously waiting her return.

He held his arms open and without a thought she ran to be encompassed in his embrace, breathing in his unique smell and relishing in the feel of his strong arms banding around her, clutching her to him as if she were something precious.

"What happened, Susannah?" He breathed into her hair, his lips lingering on the skin just below her ear, on her neck, after he asked.

"I have to leave Jesse," her voice was thick with tears. "Paul … he said …" She shook her head and looked up at him. His brow was crumpled into an expression of sheer disbelief, his mouth curled into a shape that could only mean anger but his eyes, seeing the unshed tears in hers and the hurt that danced across her every features, remained soft and loving, gazing down at her as he waited for her next words. "He made me an offer, an ultimatum. I have to go, Jesse. I have to live with him."


	6. Five

**A.N - Hey**, **guys. :). I've been wondering ... do any of you guys have twitter?** **I got it a few weeks back and I reckon it'd be really cool to like follow you guys and stuff. You'd get an insight into my amazingly cool life. Or not. Seriously, my best tweet today was: _"Damn spoilt cat. Of all the places to choose to sleep, he chooses my silk pillow."_ But yeah. I'll put the link up on my profile. Just follow me, tell me you're from ff and I'll follow you, sound good?**

**Haha. Now for the chapter. It's actually alright. I kinda hope you all hate Paul after this. :D  
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**Five**

Jesse froze. His heart skipped a beat and he swallowed around the choking feeling that clenched his throat. In his arms, Susannah stood silently crying; he could feel his shirt dampen with her tears. His clutch on her grew imperceptibly tighter.

"_What?"_ He managed to cough out. "You're … leaving? To go to him?"

Susannah looked up at him, blinking wide, watery, emerald eyes. "I don't _want_ to Jesse." Her voice was laced with indignation. "Don't you _ever_ think that. Given the choice between staying here, with you and your family, and going to live with Paul …" She broke off with a sharp intake of breath. "It would be you, every time Jesse."

His eyes bore into hers, catching and holding her gaze. In their depths she saw a myriad of emotions: hurt, anger, fear, love. It was the last one, in particular, that held her there.

In one smooth motion, Jesse stooped down and caught Susannah's lips in a kiss, touching his lips against hers sweetly for what seemed like hours. And even when they broke apart to breathe, it still wasn't long enough.

"Tell me what Paul said, Susannah." His voice was low as he sat down on a nearby chair, pulling Susannah to sit alongside him. His hand was clasped in hers. "Every word. I need to know."

Taking a deep breath, she recounted the evening's events, ignoring Jesse's tightening jaw and the look of anger that swept over his features whenever she mentioned Paul's name.

"And the ultimatum?"

"He said … He told me that," Susannah paused and gathered her words, her eyes staring down determinedly at their interlinking hands, and not Jesse's face. "He said that you and your family had been banished." The tightening of his body revealed that there was at least some truth in Paul's statement. "He told me that he could have you – all of you – killed with one word to his father."

Jesse's eyes fell shut. _"Nombre de Díos."_ He muttered.

"Is it true, Jesse?" Susannah questioned. "Can he really do that?"

Now would be ideal, Jesse thought. He could tell her who he really was, and what Paul had done to him and his father. There was a scar still along his side from where Slater himself had caught Jesse with his knife. He shook the thought out of his head. Not now. He couldn't add to all her worries and stress with the horrors of his past.

"Sí, querida," Jesse whispered. "He can. Mí familia and I … we were banished from this kingdom, yes."

Her features set in an expression of steely determination. "Then I must go with him."

Jesse began to protest, his mouth fell open ready to form the words 'no' and 'never' and scream them at her until they sunk in, but he stopped himself. As much as it pained him, she was right.

No, what was he thinking? There were other ways.

"Susannah, no." His voice was firm. "You don't have to. Mama and my sisters and me, we can go. Leave the kingdom like we were told to, and –"

Susannah shook her head. "It's easier for me to go to him. You and your family love it here, I know. I won't take that away from you."

"Querida," Jesse protested. "You don't how dangerous he is. You have no idea what he could do to you."

Another shake of her head. "He doesn't mean me any harm. That I know."

Marta's words from earlier stood out in his mind. _I think he may just be as fiercely protective over her as you, for, perhaps, the same reason._ At the very least, Paul lusted after Susannah and he wouldn't hurt her. Not until he'd had his cruel fun, at least.

"Yes," Jesse replied, his voice emotionless and sarcastic. "That we all know."

"I'm sorry, Jesse. Really, I truly am."

"Hey," his fingers gently pushed her chin up to look at her face. "It's not your fault. _None_ of this is your fault. You have no reason to apologise."

Tears welled in her eyes again. "Do you think that tonight you could just … be with me?" Catching his expression, she shook her head and smiled a watery smile. "No, not that. Just, hold me? While we sleep. Tomorrow night I'll be at Paul's and this is the last night I can spend with you."

The jealousy that consumed him was irrational and instantaneous. He knew how she felt for Paul; how she felt for himself. He knew he had nothing to worry about.

Still, the thought of her in Paul's domain: his rules, his whims …

Jesse nodded and embraced her to him fiercely, his chin resting atop her head. He stared, unseeing, across at the wall opposite, ignoring the tears that welled in his eyes and the single tear that overflowed. "Yes, querida." He said quietly. "I can."

* * *

Paul's carriage was visible from a while away. Paul himself was only revealed as Susannah and Jesse rounded the corner, all her luggage in tow. He was leaning against the carriage with a sort of satisfied nonchalance. A smirk graced his mouth.

Susannah had argued with him incessantly about this morning, about letting her go and meet Paul alone. Jesse mentally scoffed, like that was going to happen. Waking up with Susannah (both of them fully clothed) in his arms had been like heaven to him and he was losing that slice of pure bliss due to Paul Slater's manipulative ways. She was going to be alone with him for who knew how long. Jesse, at least, would come with her to say goodbye.

And a few choice words to Paul Slater.

"Morning, Jesse." Paul greeted. "I had a feeling I'd be seeing you here."

Jesse gritted his teeth. "Paul." He nodded his acknowledgement and Paul grinned, utterly pleased with himself. "I need a word with you," Jesse continued, narrowing his eyes. "Alone."

Paul raised an eyebrow. "Of course, let me just settle Susannah in …" He reached out a hand to her, only to have Jesse's hand snake around her waist and crush her to him.

Susannah gazed up at him, wide-eyed and breathless. "Thank you for last night, querida." Jesse whispered, knowing perfectly well that Paul could hear him. He took pleasure from the jealousy clouding Paul's blue eyes. "And, I just wanted you to know that," he paused and took a breath. "I love you, and –"

An excited squeal cut him off; his words swallowed by Susannah's eager kisses. His arms tightened around her waist as he lost himself in her. She pulled away and smiled up at him. "I love you too. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

Jesse was about to kiss her again, his lips a centimetre or two away from hers, until he suddenly found his arms empty. Paul had taken advantage of his distraction and jerked Susannah out of his grasp. His eyes hardened.

"That was a heart-warming goodbye," Paul drawled sarcastically, barely covering his angry tones. "But I believe you wanted to talk to me?"

Jesse nodded as his eyes followed Susannah climbing into the carriage, her one bag having already been loaded in before her. She paused before the door was shut on her, smiling sadly and blowing a kiss his way. The second, however, that the door was shut, Jesse focused his full attention on Paul.

"If you," he spat, "touch her at all, in any way, I _will_ kill you."

Paul looked almost amused. "And if she wants it, what then?"

"She doesn't. Didn't you just hear? She loves me." Jesse smiled, letting the words wash over him again. "_Me_."

"That can be fixed." Paul smirked again, maliciously. "Especially seeing as you won't be going near her again."

All the version of replies he could possibly have made abandoned Jesse in that instant.

"You can't keep her locked up, Paul." Jesse spat.

"I'm not going to. I'm just going to keep her from you." Paul smiled. "Unless, of course, you want Susannah to find out your precious secret." He paused and bowed mockingly. "Your highness. Or you want me to tell my father that you're here."

"How do I know you won't do that anyway?"

"Because of Susannah. As much as I don't understand it, it would hurt her to see you killed. Besides," Paul shrugged. "You're my leverage. If you were killed, I'd have no reason to keep her with me. And I want her with me for a very long time."

Jesse's hands closed into tight fists; the urge to punch, to hit, was overwhelming.

"So," Paul reiterated. "You'll stay away from her if you want your family to live. And if you want Susannah safe from harm – I'm not above hurting her to keep you in line. Eventually she'll think you want nothing to do with her anymore. I'll be there, of course, to help her through such a … difficult time."

Paul took a step backwards, heading towards the carriage when he stopped himself and turned back to face Jesse. "Oh, I almost forgot. Thanks for breaking her in last night. Virgins are a pain to begin with."

Then, cruelly, he slapped Jesse's cheek twice and disappeared into the carriage where Susannah was before Jesse's rage could fully manifest. In the next moment, the carriage jerked into action, carrying Susannah away from him.

Jesse's eyes narrowed after it. Paul Slater would pay for this.


End file.
